What Do We Say About Coincidence?
by ShezzaSherlock
Summary: Hi my name is John Watson. I'm going to tell you the story of my adventure with the famous Sherlock Holmes. He wasn't exactly happy when he found out I was writing a story on part of our life but then he says that about my blog and I always catch him reading it. Anyway it takes off from the return of the infamous notorious Moriarty!
1. A gun and a goodbye

**Quick note: This starts near the ending of His Last Vow!  
This is written in the perspective of John Watson.**

_"Oh, do your research! I'm not a hero, I'm a high functioning sociopath. MERRY CHRISTMAS!"  
_And he pulls the trigger. A deafening bag filled my ears while I watched that monster fall into a lifeless slump on the ground.  
"_Get away from me John, stay well back!_"  
Even if I could move I wouldn't of. My feet were planted, but my emotions roseup and I blurted out,  
"CHRIST SHERLOCK!"  
The SWAT team advancing, just witnessing Sherlock kill a man, to save Mary.. for me. I could hear Mycroft in the helicopter above commanding the men around us to not harm his brother.  
"Oh, Christ Sherlock..."  
Realising what just happened, what will happen to him. I couldn't process it. I looked at him for some ray of hope but he just looked at me with fear and sadness saying "_Give my love to Mary. Tell her she's safe now."  
_But at the cost, my god the cost.. this time it wasn't a magic trick. He slowly kneeled down facing the music while I stood there, stunned. I wanted to reach out, help him. Fight for him, but I couldn't. I knew if he and Mycroft couldn't think of a way out then I had no chance. I stood there watching them take him away, from me.

Mycroft offered to drop us to the airport to say out goodbyes. I agreed knowing that I wouldn't be able to drive after this and neither could Mary with the baby. I think Mycroft knew too. I kept telling myself, he'll be back. It's only brief then he'll return, but something in my heart didn't feel right. I knew, I knew this was our last meeting but I couldn't face it. I refused to believe it. I was in auto-pilot, watching the ground move beneath my feet. Blinking back the tears. He gives me one quick glance to which I give him my usual small nod. Then he said it, he had to bloody say it!  
"_Since this is likely to be my last conversation with John Watson, would you mind if we took a moment?"  
_Last conversation. No. I still didn't believe it. It's going to be like the fall again. He'll return, he's unstoppable. He's SHERLOCK BLOODY HOLMES. They walk away leaving Sherlock and I alone. I tried to put on a brave smile, he saw right through it. It wasn't a good attemp to be honest.  
"So here we are.." Was this conversation actually happening? I couldn't bare to look at him then, it was too hard.  
_"William Sherlock Scott Holmes." _William. I liked it, not the same as Sherlock though. I understood why he went with that name instead. It was unique, like him.  
"_If you're looking for baby names." _That's my Sherlock. He was going to be the godfather. There was no way in hell that I would name the child Sherlock but Mary and I both knew he was going to be the godfather. Besides it's a girl. He smiled, it was a sad smile. My heart was breaking more and more every second. I kept waiting for him to say 'Surprise! I got you!' like every other time. Nope, not this time. I couldn't take the silence, it was breaking me so I had to break it first.  
"Yeah, I can't think of a single thing to say." That wasn't true. I had a million things to say I just didn't know how to say it. I began to feel hopeless. The game is over.  
_"The game is never over, John. But there may be some new players now. That's okay, the East Wind takes us all in the end." _East wind? I got an elaborating story behind it, he liked to do that. I liked to listen.  
I asked him where he was going. He explained that he was going on a mission in Eastern Europe. "_Six months, my brother estimates. He's never wrong."_  
"And then what?" Six-months? He's returning? Then he gave me a look. It was all he needed to do. It wasn't a timeline, it was a deadline. His deadline. "_Who knows." _ We both knew. This was it, exactly like the fall but this time it was real. I honestly didn't know how I kept it together then. The remains of my heart shattered to a million pieces.  
_"John, there's something.. I should say. I meant to say- I've always- but never have, and since it's unlikey that we'll never meet again I might aswell say it now." _Say it Sherlock. God damn it please! _"Sherlock's actually a girls name." _Dispite everything he still made me laugh. It was another part of his many talents. No matter the situation was he could still make me laugh. There wasn't a chance that I'd name my daughter Sherlock. We locked eyes for a moment. Taking in those cold blue eyes for the last time. He out-streched his hand. I wanted to push it away and hug him but if I did then I'd lose total control of myself. _"To the very best of times John." _I took his hand giving it a firm shake. Then he turned and walked onto that plane. Standing hand-in-hand with Mary I watch him leave my life, forever..

**Author's note: Hi hope you liked it, not a lot imagination in this chapter, I know, but this is only the opening! There's plenty more to come! Please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes and if you do find any I'd be grateful if you told me so I can fix them, thanks! I know Sherlock returns with the return of Moriarity, that will be the next chapter then into the fan fiction we go!**


	2. Did you miss me?

The plane flew right out my sight. I looked down onto the ground fighting back the tears with Mary putting her arms around me. I appreciated the attempt but it made no difference. The runway was filled with a sorrowful silence then suddenly.  
"What the-" The driver started fiddling with buttons next to the screen in the car. I turned around to see Mycroft suddenly step out of the car with a worried expression. He was confused and talking to the speaker on the phone in a rushed tone. Was it Sherlock? Did something happen? Well obviously something happened. But what? He looked right at me with the same expression.  
"What's happened?" I asked.  
Mycroft turns away and frantically starts to call somebody else.

"Hello little brother, how's the exile going?"  
Sherlock! He looks at my face with his usual sly smile on his face before sliding back into the car. I step up to the door to overhear the conversation.  
"Well I certainly hope you've learnt your lesson, as it turns out, you're needed."  
Yes! He's coming home! I turn to Mary with a massive smile across my face, she returns the smile. I then hear a voice coming from the front of the car. Leaning in I saw it. It's gloating face appearing on the screen. It's jaw comically bounching up and down like a puppet.  
_"Did you miss me?" _He's back. Moriarty has returned. Even Mycroft couldn't hide the shock on his face. Still on the phone he mutters. "England."

I back away from the car to face Mary. The surprise on Mycrofts face was nothing compared to Mary's. She had something on her mind and knowing Mary it didn't stay there for long.  
"But he's dead. I mean you told me he's dead."  
"Absolutely, blew his own brains out." I replied.  
"So how can he be back?"  
"Well if he is, he better wrap up warm." The plane came back into view. Mary turned around to see what I was staring at. "There's an East Wind coming." Touchdown.

A huge smile had spread across my face. I impatiently waiting for the plane to stop before running to the door. When I was less than a few feet away the door opened and there stood Sherlock. I ran straight up to him. We both stood there with the biggest of smiles on our faces just happy to be together again. His eyes were glassy. He was crying, or close to it.  
"Hello John."  
"You were right. The game is always on!" His smile wavered a bit but he never broke eye contact.  
"I'm always right." I let out short laugh before I heard a voice behind me.  
"Boys it's only been 5 minutes. Stop acting like it's been a million years." Mycroft stood there grasping his umbrella with both hands. "Incase you've forgotten there's a crysis in the midst." Oh yeah, Moriarty.  
"So.." said Sherlock taking a deep breath. "Back from the dead."

**Bit shorter yeah I know but I might update again today! This chapter is dedicated to my friend Libby whos currently sick in bed, probably with Sherlock feels. Thanks guys! **


	3. Back Holme

**Hi guys! Sorry for the delay, I was busy with school and my other book. (Zombie survival/Sherlock one) you can give that one a read too if you want. :) anyway I'm thinking up ideas for how this story will play out, enjoy!**

Before I know it I'm sitting in the backseat of the car with Sherlock and Mary on either side of me.

"Shortest in the middle." Sherlock had said before we entered the car. Now he was gazing out of the window, thinking. I was looking at my hand woven around Mary's. I was going to be a father soon and Sherlock can be the godfather! The thought of it brought an even bigger smile to my face and now I was sitting there grinning like an idiot. Mary caught my smile and let out a short giggle.  
Sherlock cocked his head towards the front of the vehicle. "Mycroft where are you taking us?"  
"To mummy and daddy's brother dear." he replied, his eyes glued to his phone and his fingers dancing across the screen.  
"Why?"  
"Because.. you ought to apologise for the ordeal you caused yesterday."  
"Apologising isn't in your area Mycroft. Why?" Sherlock stated staring coldly at his brothers face.  
Mycroft finally removed his eyes from his device and cast his gaze out the window.  
"Because Sherlock, I promised that you'd visit them as soon as you came home."  
Sherlock's cold stare softened and he dropped his head towards his chest.  
"I see.." And then the sound of Mycroft tapping at his phone became the only sound to fill the car again.

We pulled up to the house. Small droplets of rain began to fall. Mycroft swiftly got out of the car and strutted towards the gate. Sherlock slowly dragged himself from the vehicle and I followed him. I ran around the car and helped my wife out. Sherlock trudged through the gate and towards the front door. He was dreading this. Less than a few feet from the door, it swung open. There stood two people, Mr and Mrs Holmes.

"Sherlock!"  
"Mother. ."  
"Young man you are in serious troubl-"  
"Oh please mother I'm not a child!"  
"No, no child would drug their family on Christmas!" She had a point. Mycroft scoffed at the word 'Christmas' but his smile was wiped from his face by the look his mother threw at him.  
"Christmas day Sherlock! Of all days!"  
"And we had the oven on." Interjected his father. "Almost burnt the turkey! "  
My attention turned to Sherlock who was staring at his shoes like a child being scolded. I suppose he was a child being scolded. If it wasn't so serious I would if laughed. His mouth opening and closing trying to form words. Eventually he succeeds. "Sorry." He raises his head "I truly am."  
In those moments all anger left their faces and Mrs Holmes scuttles towards her son and wraps her arms around him in a crushing hug. Sherlocks face becomes red from embarrassment. "Is this really necessary?" He mutters. After what must of been an agonising few moments for Sherlock she lets go of him.  
"We were very worried" said Mr Holmes from the door. "When Mike said you were in a spot of trouble and had to leave for a while your mother got very upset!"  
"I'm fine." Sherlock spoke looking into space.  
"Well come on inside, out of the rain. Mary you must be freezing!" My wife simply nods and follows Mrs Holmes into the house. "I'll make a pot of tea. Sherlock you're not to touch anything!" Mycroft enters the house too leaving Sherlock and I alone in the cold.

The man stood in the garden staring at the brickwork. He didn't stir when I called him.  
"Are you okay?" I asked. Slowly he turned his head towards me. "I.. I don't know John. I don't know how to feel." Poor chap I thought. Without realising it I step towards him and put my hand on his shoulder. He shuddered slightly but I assumed it was because he disliked human contact. Still my hand remained. He looked down at me. "I'm glad- I mean if he's back..then you're in danger." He face fell and his eyes began to fill with fear. Memories of the pool and hospital began to come to mind but we survived both of them. Together. I smiled up at him. "If you stopped him once then you can stop him again." At this stage the heavens opened, a roll of thunder emerged from over the hills. He was still staring down at me. Despite it being in the middle of winter I began to feel pretty warm. We both stood staring at each other for a few seconds I until a flash of lightning brought me back to Earth. "Let's go inside. I'm dying for a cuppa." I said. He lifts his hand, places it on my shoulder and guides me into the house.

Three of us sitting next to the fire, Mary and I were discussing ideas for the baby's room between sips of tea while Sherlock was sitting with his legs crossed, tea untouched. His eyes shut he sat there thinking. In his mind palace. Mary and I took no notice of this, it was the usual for us. Then suddenly his eyes flew open. "It makes no sense!" he moaned.  
"What?" I asked over my cup.  
"How he survived. I saw him place the gun in his mouth and pull the trigger. It's impossible!"  
At that moment Mrs Holmes enters the room with a plate a biscuits. Sherlock dives towards his tea and takes a gulp. He flinched as it burned his throat.  
"Sherlock none of this detective business. We are spending time together." She looks at the door where Mycroft and Mr Holmes were standing. "As a family."


	4. A Belated Christmas

Sherlock actually enjoyed dinner with his family, Mycroft included. There was something different between the brothers, they were acting like, well brothers. He didn't even mock Mycroft when we were eating biscuits, but I could see his mouth twitching as if he was dying to say something. His parents are lovely people, not at all like their children, they're well perfectly normal. Dinner was normal too. As I sat around the table my mind began to wander. It was so nice to sit in a kitchen surrounded by family, I hope Sherlock finally appreciated that. I couldn't wait until I could do this with a family of my own. Mary, our daughter and myself around the kitchen table enjoying our Christmas dinner. Sherlock would probably come too knowing him.

I was obviously in a daze for quiet a while because Mary had to repeat her question in order to get my attention.  
"John dear, are you all right?"  
I brought my eyes back into focus and gave her a small smile. "Yes. Perfect, just taking it all in." Mary satisfied with my answer began to tuck into the remains of her meal. My plate empty, I glanced around the table to see Sherlock smiling down at me. He always had a nice smile, pity he never used it too often. I lifted up my wine and he copied. Soon everyone raised their glass in a toast. All eyes turned onto me expecting me to say something, I didn't intend to make a speech but since I was put in the spot I decided to wing one.

"Sherlock, you are the craziest, the most annoying and the best person I have ever met. You have done so much for me that I can't begin to thank you." There was a brief pause, feeling the alcohol blur my senses slightly I decided to put a little more honesty into my speech. "Actually I can, right now. Thank you Sherlock, for everything. Since the night we ran across London after that bloody taxi you've helped me so much and I owe you so much for that. You're my best friend, the bestest friend I ever had and will. Besides what's a blogger if he has nothing to blog about. To Sherlock Holmes." I raised my glass even higher as did everyone else. Taking a sip from my drink I look down at Sherlock.

He stared at me intensely, his eyes wide with surprise. Suddenly he pushes himself away from the table and walks towards me. Mary who was in a conversation with Sherlock's parents took no notice of this. Sherlock walks up right next to me not breaking eye contact. I could feel myself going red at this point.  
"Thank you." he said. Feeling slightly uncomfortable I reach out for my glass to work as a brief distraction.  
"That speech John it meant -"  
"Don't mention it, I was only being honest."  
"Yes well.." he begins to pull out something from behind his back. "Care to pull a cracker with me?"  
I happily pulled the cracker creating a loud bang in the room. Sherlock had won, of course knowing him he calculated which end would win. He removed the contents from it, a bad joke, a fancy looking pen and a paper hat. Sherlocks eyes lit up when an idea crossed his mind. He quickly unfolds the hat and gently places it on my head. We both laugh.

Few more crackers, bad jokes and slices of cake (mainly on Mycroft's part) later we make our way back to Baker Street. We were welcomed by a bustling Mrs Hudson who kept offering us a cuppa. I politely decline as I felt I was about to burst. Sherlock was in high spirits, the only time I see him like this is when he's in an 'interesting' case. We all huddled around the fire, Mary in my chair, I was on the floor and Mrs Hudson on the wooden clients chair. We sat there for most of the night and listened to Sherlock play the most beautiful tunes I have ever heard.  
It certainly felt like Christmas with my present of Sherlocks return, the dinner and celebrations, and it was the best Christmas I ever had.


	5. Back To Baker Street

The next few days I spent hopping between work, Mary and Sherlock. Luckily for myself I didn't work in the accident department of medicine, so work was relatively quiet, if it wasn't for that I would of exploded. Mary was due any day and Sherlock was running around London like a lunatic trying to find out about Moriarty. Mycroft never helped when he kept urging me to aid his brother. I arrived on at the ebony door of 221b with yellow paint all over my hands and face. Painting was a tedious task that I kept putting off until the last minute. I was always nervous leaving Mary alone with Moriarty around. Mycroft assured me that he'll keep an eye on her but that didn't comfort me in the slightest. after all Moriarity did manage to steal the Crown Jewels. Sherlock had texted me to come to Baker Street when I could, that was two hours ago but I had other important matters to deal with. As I lifted my hand I noticed the brass knocker was tilted at an angle again. I could never understand Sherlock and his actions half of the time. The metal was icy and I felt my fingers go numb from the few seconds I had grasped it. Before the metal could meet the wood the door energetically swung open causing me to lose my footing and fall in slightly. I felt a hand press against my chest and I quickly regained my balance.

"John you do understand the word's 'Soon as possible.'" Sherlock joked, but when I looked up he had a very serious expression. This wasn't unusual for Sherlock with strangers but I wasn't a stranger so I knew something was up.  
"Yes, Sherlock I was busy." I replied shrugging off my coat. I brushed past him and headed up the stairs. The place was slightly decorated for the season with a small bit of tinsel taped to the door frames and fairy lights glittering around the mantelpiece. Mrs. Hudson had obviously done this since Sherlock wouldn't even help me the last time I was here for Christmas. That was almost two years ago, I couldn't believe it. I was only yesterday when Greg and Molly came over to share gifts and drink wine with us. One of my ex-girlfriends was there too, Sherlock not able to resist the temptation of insulting her. I didn't mind too much, he was right, she was boring. Sherlock plonked in his chair across from me and folded his legs. He was clearly annoyed at me but he has to remember that he's not the center of my universe. not that he knows much about the universe in general. As he sulked I defrosted but the fire, but I didn't have all the time to waste so I finally broke the silence.  
"You know Sherlock if you wanted to sulk at me you could of-"  
"I want you and Mary to move into Baker Street." interrupted Sherlock. I shot him a confused look before he continued. "Moriarty has been planning for over two years now. If he's actually alive that is, and if that's true then he will target me, you and the people you hold most dear. He has done it before and he will certainly do it again. I need your help in order to stop him but I can't leave Mary unattended, not in the state she's in right now. Mycroft has been worn thin trying to deal with international tensions and the protection over the nation. It's too much of a risk."  
"Sherlock I can't just expect Mary to move in here, what happens when she has the baby? This place isn't safe for them, besides I just finally got the house organised."  
"John they will be safer here than in the suburbs. Trust me."  
"No Sherlock I can't."  
"Fine we could get Mary to move in with my parent's for a while, Mycroft has the place under complete surveillance. Moriarty wouldn't even consider looking for her there."  
"Sherlock I'm about to become a father in a few days and you want me to move myself and my pregnant wife out?"  
"Yes."

I looked around the room, the flat seemed cleaner and the kitchen wasn't an experiment laboratory. The tables polished, the sink gleaming, carpet hoovered, even the curtains were cleaned. Sherlock was definitely serious about this. Moriarty did have a tendency to attack people who were close to his targets so Mary was definitely in danger and our house in the suburbs wasn't the most secure but Baker Street wasn't fit for a baby.  
"I'll talk to Mary about it." I eventually answered.  
"Excellent!" Sherlock leaped from his chair clapping his hands. "Now back to business. John take a look at this." He tossed a paper onto my lap. A picture of Moriarty with the words 'Did you miss me?' was printed across the top.  
"What about this?" I asked.  
"Look at it and tell me what you see?"  
"I see a picture of a psychopath back from the dead."  
"No John look closely!"  
"I don't know what you-" I noticed what paper it was. "It's Magnussen's paper. Or was."  
"Yes exactly John! Why is a paper, who's owner has recently died still publishing the return of Moriarty as a main headline and failing to even mention Magnussen's death?"  
"You mean to say Moriarty is involved?" I asked shocked.  
"Exactly!" He began to pace the room rubbing his temples as I stared at the contents of the paper.

'In recent events, James Moriarty, famous for the crime of the century had mysteriously disappeared following the death of the genius Sherlock Holmes, has now returned with a bang. All electronic device connected to the internet had broadcasted the message of his return all over the nation. London's security has increased significantly since the event. Likewise in other major cities around the county such as Birmingham. Unlike any other terrorist attack, the country's defenses have never been higher even with the Royal Navy raising their defenses. Years have past since the country has been under such a threat. Our government are trying to control the population by saying "Upon recent even, everyone must remain calm. All precautions are being made to assure the safety of our nation and her people. Last time we were at the disadvantage of ignorance, now we have the knowledge." Later that day the.. READ MORE PAGE 3'  
I folded the paper over and placed it on the table beside me.  
"So what does it mean?" I asked incisively. Why on earth would Moriarty want to take over Magnessun's paper. I looked to my friend before me for the answer.  
"I don't know." he replied curtly. He whipped out his phone and began to fiercely press his fingers across the screen, his face becoming angrier and angrier with each passing second before he exploded and threw the mobile at the couch across the room.  
"Gah!" He was breathing heavily, his shoulders hunch as of a 60 year old he glared at the phone lying on a pillow from across the room.  
"Sherlock calm down." I said anxiously. He was rarely this angry but giving the circumstances it was highly understandable. Sherlock strided across the room and threw on his coat, trying his scarf around his next he began to exit the room.  
"I'm going out for a bit, I'll be back in an hour for you and Mary."  
"But Sherlock-" I began before he slammed the door cutting me off. Sighing I picked up my coat, I left the Baker Street taking a key with me.


	6. The Code

"So what do you think?"

Mary sat on the couch, her book lying opened of her lap. I just gave her a brief story of my visit to Sherlock's and told her what he asked me to do.  
"The place is clean?"  
"Couldn't find a speck of dust, surprisingly."  
"No body parts in the fridge?"  
"He's cleaned the kitchen too." I laughed at the thought of Sherlock scrubbing the kitchen.  
"I don't see why not."  
"Really?" I was surprised, I expected Mary to resist a little but then again Mary never failed to surprise me. On the night Sherlock returned and interrupted my proposal to Mary, she wasn't mad. In fact she even said she liked him. Of course not all her surprises were welcomed but I was glad with this one.  
"Well it makes sense after all, we can keep an eye on each other."  
"But the baby-" I began.  
"We'll deal with that when it happens, here give me a hand." She raised a hand and I helped her onto her feet. "You can do all the packing and I'll watch."

Bags packed and Mary waiting against the door I was looking around our room in-case we missed anything when suddenly it hit me.  
"My gun." I stated making my way over to the bedside table.  
"Oh take out mine too dear." called Mary from the front door. I froze mid-pace.  
"You have a gun?" Of course she did. She was probably better with it than me.  
"Under the mattress." I lifted the mattress and retrieved the pistol from between the boards. I walked out of the room with a gun in each hand, mine and Mary's. Mary raised an eyebrow at my movie-like exit.  
"Hello there Mr Bond." She joked as I leaned in to kiss her. Always the joker, and god I loved her. Her perfect hair, eyes, laugh and her calm approach to the situation. Normal people wouldn't laugh during a situation like this but then again nothing about us is normal. According to Sherlock I'm an adrenalin junkie that seeks bullets and thrills, and Mary was an assassin for hire that killed more people that I'd like to think of. Honestly in that moment I began to understand what Sherlock meant. I looked at my blonde beautiful wife, we were perfect for each other.  
"Ready?" I asked.  
"Lead the way." And with that we left the suburbs and made our way to Baker Street.

Traffic was awful as everyone took to their vehicles to avoid the downpour. The sun was well and truly gone by the time we pulled up to the familiar door of 221b. Inserting the key I opened the lock and we entered our new home. Mrs Hudson upon hearing our entry emerged from her kitchen and gave us a warm welcome.  
"Oh John, it's so good to have you back."  
"It's good to be back Mrs Hudson." I gave her a kind smile. She was practically a mother to me, I had a feeling I was like a son to her.  
"Just like old times dear."  
"Not quite." I remarked putting my arm around Mary.  
"Yes well come inside, I'll fix you with a cup of tea."  
"You go inside Mary I'll just bring in our things." Mrs Hudson threw a sad look upstairs.  
"I'll help." Sherlock stood on the stairs, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a smile on his face.

The storm outside was getting worse, the rain pelting against the glass and the wind howling around the building. Flood alerts have been placed around the country, Ireland had already experienced the effects of the bad weather and we were next in its fury. The weather began to resemble the mood building inside 221b. Mary sitting in my chair reading the paper while Sherlock and I studied his 'mind map' pinned onto the bullet-ridden wall. The faded yellow of a sprayed painted smiley face reminded me of the time were began to first investigate Moriarty and play his little 'games'. He really should get the wall fixed and the wallpaper redone but knowing Sherlock that's never going to happen. It was funny being in a clean 221b. I've never seen it this clean before, even the day I moved in years ago Sherlock already infested the place with his mess and experiments.

"John?" asked Sherlock staring at a map of St Barts. I snapped out of my train of thoughts to realise that I was staring right at my friend.  
"Uh huh?"  
"When you were in Afghanistan. You said you saw some violent deaths."  
"Yes I did." I looked up at him wondering where this was leading to.  
"Any of them involve a bullet to the head?"  
"One or two. Why?"  
"Describe it to me." Mary folded the paper and turned her attention towards us.  
"It was, well bloody.." I didn't want to continue, I lost a friend this way. He was a good man, a clever smartarse. He reminded me of Sherlock but not near as clever or rude. I always called him Moran the Moron to annoy him. "besides why do you want to know."  
"Moriarty he shot himself in the head, I'm wondering how it could of possibly be a faked suicide."  
"Well if you could show me a picture I could tell you."  
"I don't have any, I tried ringing Lestrade earlier for some but he never answered. He's on holiday or something stupid like that." And right on queue as if he heard him Sherlock's phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Lestrade, impeccable timing." Sherlock began pacing around the room. "I need to know about those photos that I asked about earlier." There was a moment of silence when Sherlock suddenly outbursts. "What do you mean there's no photos? Well of course they've been deleted since they're obviously not there!" Sherlock's jaw dropped when a thought came into his head. "Of course." he muttered hanging up on Lestrade. "No photos, why didn't I realise this earlier! It was staring at me all this time!"  
"What was?" I asked.  
"The photos John, or the lack of so to speak."  
"What do you mean?"  
"Oh think John, a double suicide of myself and Moriarty and only photos of my suicide."  
"That means that his body was never found." interjected Mary. Her voice shook with fear and she darted her eyes onto the picture of Moriarty on the cover of the paper I read earlier.  
"Moriarty is indeed_ definitely_ alive." Sherlock said dramatically. Always the drama queen, as if we needed more drama in our lives. I looked at the both of them, I was hoping against hope that this was just a prank pulled by some mad-fan of Moriarty. I get a few of them commenting on my blog. Sherlock's face shot over towards Mary, well not Mary just the paper lying beside her.

He looked at the cover and read to contents for a second before he mouth a silent "Oh".  
"That's the paper we thought Moriarty was involved in." I stated to brief Mary who was giving me a questioning look.  
"Yes and he was most definitely involved John." said Sherlock ripping the front page out and pinning it to the wall. With a marker he circled every capital letter.  
"Oh god." whispered Mary as we read the hidden message.

_**I, JM, SHALL BURN YOU ALL.**_

Hey guys, if you're wondering where the capital letter came from its from the article in the previous chapter. :)


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